The Masks We Wear
by SweetSouthernSass
Summary: Life is full of wickedness, something she knows all too well. All around her, the sins of the seven make themselves readily available. Now was her chance. The blue of his gaze was captivating, the words falling from angelic lips like silken promises as he preached to them. It was blasphemy and purity, all at once. While they are faced with temptation, the Purge is their confession.


**Author's Note:** This is a shot in the dark, but I couldn't seem to leave it alone. I just recently watched The Purge, I suppose I'm a bit late to the game. Honestly, there are so many things about it that freak me out, but Rhys Wakefield and his representation of the Polite Leader just totally got to me. And all I could think about is, what about a before? How did he get there, how did those with him form into their hunting party? What were their reasons? And how is he so friggin' delicious?! So, this little gem was born. I suppose we'll see how it goes!

 **Pairing:** Polite Leader/OC  
 _-Face Claim:_ Phoebe Tonkin

 **Rating:** Fiction M- For language, adult themes/content/situations, violence/gore/blood, graphic material, murderous intent, crime, etc.

 ** _*Warning!:_** This is based off The Purge, please keep that in mind when reading. I swear I'm not a crazy person! Some AU quality; addition of an OC(s), story behind canon, change to canon, etc. Perhaps a little OOC, considering you'll see a side to the Polite Leader you don't get in the movie. Sleep with a light on! I did...

Feel free to follow, favorite, review and promote the story/fandom! I love story feedback and suggestions, but please keep any flames or story hating/negativity to yourself! I covet constructive criticism and story loving, but I do not accept bullying! :D

 **Disclaimer:** **I do NOT own anything Purge related, this includes the characters/movies, and any other related content. It belongs to the wonderful creators, writers, producers, directors, etc. I also do not own anything else copyrighted/trademarked/recognizable materials possibly mentioned here. I only own my OC(s), and my personal plot bunnies!**

* * *

 _"Do not mistake me for my mask. You see light dappling on the water and forget the deep, cold dark beneath."_

* * *

He was sitting in a chair.

It was the first coherent thought that managed to piece itself together within his mind. He blinked rapidly, his clammy skin peppered with perspiration, the presence of which stung at the corner of his bleary eyes. His mind was foggy, thoughts and flashes all jumbled together in an incomprehensible heap. For some reason, a high-pitched, manic giggle seemed to echo in his head. There was also a sharp, throbbing pain near the base of his skull; one which the consistent, girlish giggles did not help. He groaned loudly as he winced, lifting his arm to rub at the annoying ache. Only, he couldn't. Jerking his arm once more in confusion, he glanced down at the offending limb, and his breath caught in his throat at the same time that his mouth ran dry.

The arm, his right arm, was tied down.

Cursing, he parted his lips to yell, to demand answers, but he was left with a pair of dark eyes that widened in surprised when he registered the sticky sensation that coated his mouth and stretched out across his stubbled cheeks. Tape. There was a length of tape, expanding from one corner of his jaw to the other, taking careful care to cover his mouth in the process. Every sound he made, the yelling that he did, was muffled. He was sure it couldn't even be heard outside of the living room he found himself sat in.

How...how had he ended up here?

Squinting, his thoughts raced in time with his heartbeat, funneling so quickly it was difficult to make them settle. He remembered very little, it turned out. They had ordered in for the night, the drop off had been early, given the annual event taking place later that evening. A polite young man had made the delivery, looking much more the part of an upper-class frat boy than an Italian delivery boy. He was diligent in his duty though, the food was piping hot, so he had tipped him well and wished him a safe evening. The pasta was tender, the sauce rich, and that was it.

Dimly, he remembered a menacing smile and that _fucking_ giggle...and the taste of that rich sauce, lingering on his tongue, making his mouth numb.

Along with the sudden realization that the sauce was much too rich, his struggles renewed themselves, violently. He pulled and tugged, grunting with each movement as the rope and zip ties seemed to only cut further into his skin with every move he made, instead of easing their tension. The legs of the polished oak chair holding him up creaked as he began to rock, desperately hoping that perhaps throwing himself backward might lead to the splintering of wood and the freedom of his arms and legs. It was a monumental disaster though. As he crashed to the ground, he only managed to put his left arm in a bind, to bruise his cheek where it lay squished against the marble flooring, and to alert anyone and everyone in the extensive home to his awakened state. When the polished calfskin leather shoes came into his line of limited sight, the shine so clear he managed to make out his reflection in the brown leather, he didn't look up. Even when a pair of silken, pretty and pink ballet flats joined them.

He just couldn't make himself do it.

"Oh, Mr. Roseburg...your sins seem to have caught up with you, haven't they?" The voice was deep and smooth, and so very polite. "Not to worry though!"

Masculine chuckles soon grew into a steady stream of laughter, joined shortly by that same damned giggle that made the hair on the back of his neck raise.

"Yes, I'm sure we'll manage to cleanse your soul before the night is through."

* * *

 _ **The Masks We Wear**_  
 **-Warnings/Information-**

 **Content/Rating:** I figured I'd cover this a bit more in detail. If you have not watched The Purge and you're just checking this story out, I strongly suggest at least watching the trailer. This is going to be a dark story, there's really no other way around it. There's gore and blood, bad language, some underage alcohol/drug use, some sexual situations (characters will be of age!), etc. I'll try to make sure I note major trigger warnings at the start of a chapter.

 **Am I Crazy?:** I promiseee, I'm not crazy. I am however, engaged in a Creative Writing class, and we're studying the horror genre right now. Dundundunnn. So here we are. I kind of envision my OC and our favorite Polite Leader as a young Harley/Joker type of couple. Let's hope it goes the way I plan!

 **Updates:** Nothing set, yet. There's just over fifty stories in this category, so I have no idea if such a story will even take off. But when my muse demands some Polite Leader, a new chapter will make its way here! :D

 _*All mistakes are my own! No Beta!_


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